


Lost Boys

by thehotinpsychotic



Category: Cockles - Fandom, Jared Padalecki - Fandom, Jensen Ackles - Fandom, Misha Collins - Fandom, Supernatural
Genre: Cockles, Foster home, M/M, Orphanage, Orphans
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-11-09
Updated: 2013-11-09
Packaged: 2017-12-31 22:43:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1037245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thehotinpsychotic/pseuds/thehotinpsychotic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jensen is a wanderer. His parents died in a plane crash when he was extremely young, and he's emotionally unaffected. Yet, every other aspect of his life is dominated by their demise. Where he lives, how much he moves, where he goes to school, even who he lives with, all of this is changed because of his parents dying. After being kicked out of yet another foster parents' home, he finds himself in small town Jefferson. There he meets the orphanage's leader's son, Misha, and another orphan named Jared. Jensen finds himself falling for Misha, and as he learns more about him and grows closer to both boys, he questions almost everything about himself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“Jensen, this is the last straw,” my foster mom huffs.  
“What are you going to do, send me to the naughty corner?” I mock. I relax back in my seat and prop my feet up onto the coffee table.  
“Listen, smartass!” my foster dad barks. “We are at the end of our ropes with you!”  
I sit up, out of my comfortable slouching position. “What?! Does that mean…”  
“Pack your bags, pretty boy!” my foster dad spits. “You’re out of here!”  
They make me take the bus to the orphanage, since I guess that they don’t want to deal with their own son that they chose to adopt anymore. Some would call me a sociopath; I can be extremely charming when I choose to be.  
I gaze out the window out at the rolling fields. Shit, this orphanage must be in Godforsaken nowhere. We drive through a town that looks like Podunk U.S.A., and I pray to God that it isn’t Jefferson, the town with the orphanage located in it. Sure enough, the stupid sign proudly reads “JEFFERSON. Not bigger, but better!”  
My chest tightens as I realize how small the town actually is. There’s no stop lights! I’ve never lived in a town with a population under 45,000, and by the looks of it, this town hardly breaks 1,000!  
The bus stops about a block from the orphanage, so I scrape together my measly possessions, which can all be contained in just a duffel bag and another backpack. I walk the rest of the way, lugging my stuff. I peer up at the orphanage, a large house with a pool in the back. Hey, maybe this won’t be so bad. I wouldn’t mind taking a dip in that once in a while.  
I ring on the door bell, and this weathered little man answers. He wears glasses and has his sliver locks combed carefully over his bald spot, and is dressed neatly in a dark polo and slacks. “Are you Jensen?”  
I nod, and respond, “That makes you Mr. Collins?”  
The man beams and nods, placing a hand on my back and pressing me into the house, welcoming, “Come in!”  
I close the door behind me, and it makes the entire frame shake when I close it.  
“Let me introduce you to the children. Don’t worry; there’s only two of them,” the man assures. He heads over to the steps, calling up them, “Boys! Jensen’s here!”  
A motley duo heads down the stairs. One is this boy with shaggy bangs and brown eyes. He has a mole, and is quite gangly. His hazel eyes glisten in the sun flowing through the adjacent window. He clomps down the steps clumsily. Another boy trails behind him.  
He has dark, dark hair styled up like mine, except he has much more of it to work with, and his isn’t as stringy as mine is. He has pale lips and skin, and sapphire blue eyes that reflect like no other.  
He takes each step with little hops, and stands next to the other boy, hardly reaching the towering kid’s shoulder.  
“Jensen, this is Jared,” Mr. Collins tells, placing a large hand on the taller boy’s shoulder.  
“Hi,” I greet.  
“Hey,” Jared replies, his voice deep and husky.  
“And the other is my son, Misha,” Mr. Collins informs.  
I can’t help but shudder. I look at Misha, questioning, “Your actual name is Misha?”  
Misha smirks confidently and retorts, “This is your third home in a year?”  
I feel sick, and Mr. Collins must be able to tell, because he chides,  
“Now, now Misha, don’t be so rude to our guest. He’s just a nice kid who gets into a dip of trouble, aren’t you Jensen?”  
I look up at Mr. Collins and nod, agreeing, “Yes, sir.”  
Misha takes a minute more to grin at me before turning to his dad, informing, “I’ll be upstairs.”  
Misha starts up the steps, and Jared’s head whips up to Mr. Collin’s level, chiming, “Me too!” before running off to catch up with Misha.  
I watch them go up the stairs absently, the look Misha gave me burnt permanently into my mind, engraved into my basal ganglia.  
Mr. Collins smiles fondly up the steps, and then nudges me, suggesting, “Why don’t you join the two?”  
“S-sure,” I stammer, going up the steps. I hear talking coming from a room so I enter it, to see Misha and Jared lying on the floor, playing Monopoly.  
“Hi,” I say.  
Misha stops, his game piece in midair. He glances up at me and smiles. “Hey!”  
“Hi,” Jared grumbles. I can tell he’s not happy about me being here by the way his muscles tense in his arms.  
“Can I play?” I ask, sounding very driveling. What’s wrong with me, begging to play with them like a little kid? Fuck them, I don’t need them! I don’t care about whether I get to play or not!  
“It’s kind of a two person thing,” Jared answers coldly.  
“Oh,” I reply softly, heading for the door. I guess I could always hang out with Mr. Collins…  
“He can play, Jared, don’t be a dick,” Misha insists. “Hey, Jensen, come here!”  
I hurry back, sitting down next to Misha and as far away from Jared as I can, who is staring me down like he wants to rip me to shreds, which he debatably could with those giant fucking werewolf hands.  
Misha sorts through the extra game pieces, rambling, “I’m the car, and Jared’s the dog. I’m always the car, and Jared’s always the dog, respectably. You should pick one that you always are, too, so make sure you pick a good one. You don’t have very many good ones to pick from, for example, this thimble. I suggest you get the boat or the horse, but you can pick whatever you want; cause that’s just me.”  
I chuckle, responding, “Okay. I’ll be… the horse.”  
I reach for the game piece, and Misha does at the same time. Our hands touch as each closes around the trinket, and I turn red, jerking my hand away. Misha just sets the piece onto the board as if nothing happened. I peek over nervously at Jared, to see him mouth,  
“Gay!”


	2. Chapter 2

I have to share a room with Jared since there’s only three bedrooms in the house, which I’m definitely not psyched about. I sit on the end of my bed, taking off my shirt and tossing it to the side. God, it’s hotter than Hell in here.   
Jared strips off his shirt as well, and then pulls down his pants, stepping out of them, and leaving him dressed merely in his black boxer briefs and socks. He catches me looking and sneers, and I just blush and snap my head away.   
“Don’t be planning to make any moves on me,” Jared warns. In the corner of my eye, I see him settle into his bed, pulling the covers up to his ribcage. “I only sleep in my underwear cause it’s so hot in here, not for any pleasure for you.”  
I sit up, facing him and snapping, “I’m not gay, you know, so you can shut up.”  
Jared chuckles and rolls over to meet my eyes. “Dude, I saw that little hand holding thing you did with Misha. How you blushed?” Jared turns over so he’s on his back again. “Gay!”  
I get all red again, and I’m glad that Jared can’t see me. I retort, “Oh yeah? I was… just embarrassed. I didn’t want to hold his hand.”  
Jared chortles and responds, “Whatever you say, Jensen.”  
“Hey, you called me Jensen,” I realize.  
“Yeah? So?” Jared responds. “It is your name, numb nuts.”  
“No, I mean this is the first time you’ve called me that,” I inform.   
Jared knits his brows, and then shakes his head, growling, “Shut up! That doesn’t mean anything.”  
The next morning, we all gather at the table for breakfast. Misha’s already down there when I get there, dressed in white boxers and a grey shirt. His usually meticulously styled hair is hanging down his forehead limply. He’s reading the paper as he drinks coffee, and I can’t help but notice what an adult he looks like.   
I sit down next to him, and help myself to the bacon sitting on a plate in the center. Jared comes down, fully dressed and his hair dripping wet. He grabs bacon on his way through the room and then heads outside.  
I elbow Misha to get his attention. “What’s Jared doing?”  
Misha glances back at the door Jared left through and smiles. “Oh, he’s probably just trying to fix up the pool. He’s obsessed about that thing.”  
“What’s wrong with it?” I ask.  
Misha shrugs. “I don’t think anything is.” He grins, and then stands, ordering, “Put on your swim suit and I’ll show you.”  
We go outside as well, me in my camouflage swim trunks and Misha in his Spiderman ones, which are kinda dorky, but endearing at the same time. He trots up to the pool, and stops at the edge, looking back at me.   
I catch up to him, and follow his finger, which is pointing to the water. The water is almost completely coated in bugs, which is frankly disgusting. Jared’s on the other side of the pool, running a skimmer through the water and emptying it onto the ground.   
“See, Jared loves swimming, but he’s afraid of bugs,” Misha explains.  
“I heard that!” Jared barks. He reaches across the pool to try to smack Misha with the skimmer, but Misha just leans away from it. “Misha doesn’t like horror movies! He peed his pants when we watched the new Evil Dead!”  
Misha just replies, “It’s true; I did.”  
“That water is disgusting,” I groan.  
“I don’t think so,” Misha mutters. He then cannonballs in, spraying the bug water all over me.   
“Ew!” I shout, flicking the excess water from my hands.   
Misha’s head pops up, as he floats contently on his back, lightly kicking his legs to move him in a circle around the pool. “The water’s fine, Jensen.”  
“That’s so gross!” I exclaim. I peer over at Jared, whose face is twisted with disgust as well.   
Misha does a backflip in the water, and resurfaces, swimming over to Jared. He grabs onto Jared’s ankle and pulls him in.   
Jared screams as he surfaces, and desperately flails about, reaching the edge and climbing out of the pool, shuddering with disgust as he shakes all of his limbs to assure there’s no bugs attached.   
“That’s for making me watch Evil Dead!” Misha yells, sticking his tongue out at Jared.   
“Jensen, wipe that dumb smile off your face!” Jared shouts, tears in his voice.   
Was I smirking? “Are you crying?”  
Jared shoves past me, cursing, “Fuck you guys.”  
Misha’s sitting in the chair of the dining room, being scolded by his father for doing something so mean to Jared. Misha reminds his father of the time Jared made him watch Evil Dead, but his father just replies,   
“And Jared was punished for that. Revenge is messy business, Misha, something that someone your age shouldn’t be worried about.”  
Misha is dismissed, and I catch him on his way up to his room, asking, “You okay?”  
Misha grins and questions, “I got Jared good, didn’t I?”  
I laugh and agree, “Yeah, you did.”  
I’m lying in bed trying to sleep when Jared enters. I hear him stumble around the room like the klutz he is, and the sound of sheets and blankets being moved indicates that he’s getting into bed.   
“You know, you’re afraid of bugs too,” Jared scowls. “You didn’t have to be so mean about it.”  
“Sorry,” I apologize, even though I only partly mean it. “You just looked really funny, flipping out like that.”  
“I’m going to see you like that,” Jared grumbles.   
Shit, I think I just set myself a date for revenge. I toss and turn, unable to sleep, and I even hear Jared snoring after a while. I get up, going for a glass of water, and run into someone in the dark.  
I repress a scream and blindly grope the person, hissing, “Who is it?!”  
“It’s me, Misha,” they whisper back.   
“Oh thank God,” I breathe.  
Even in the blackness, I can see Misha’s ever permanent smile. “I got you, didn’t I? I didn’t even mean to, and I got you.”  
I chuckle softly as I pass him, replying, “Yeah, that makes two.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Please comment! New chapter should be up soon!
> 
> Follow my fanfiction blog- www.frerard-is-the-weapon.tumblr.com

**Author's Note:**

> New chapter should be up soon! Thanks so much for reading! Please comment! Check out my other fics!
> 
> Follow my fanfiction blog- www.frerard-is-the-weapon.tumblr.com


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